by Mark Hockley
THE SEA OF TEARS
Dredger knew that crossing the torrid zone known as the Sea of Tears would be a great test indeed. And that was only the beginning.
Once that had been accomplished he would have to face the hooded foe, the enemy foretold in ancient prophecy. It was said that the coming of this, the second of the beasts, would herald the dawn of a new age. But whether it was to be one of darkness or of light seemed uncertain.
His father, urgency in his voice, had spoken to him on a rain sodden day when he had been a boy of ten. They had climbed the steep hills that girdled their village, overlooking their fertile domain. Dredger recalled it with clarity.
"There are stories," the boy's father told him, as rain water clung to his face and hair, "old tales of magic and strangeness. They have been handed down as prophecies of things yet to come." The man paused for a moment, looking out from their place up on the hillock. It was a beautiful vista, the valley below winding into the distance. They had made their home here and the land had been good to them. "And in the tales there is one they call the warrior," he continued, now returning his steely gaze to his son. "That warrior is you, my son."
Dredger listened carefully. It was true enough that he was of the warrior breed and had always known that his destiny lay in the way of the blade. But now it seemed much more was expected of him than merely following in his father's footsteps.
"So," the man went on, laying a firm hand upon the boy's shoulder, "in a future time, perhaps when I have parted from this world, you will be called upon to face a great evil. In the prophecies, they speak of dark forces that will hinder you and I have learnt many of the sacred runes and the old tales so that I might give you guidance. The ancient writings also tell of one known only as the Second Beast. This foe is not akin to the Wolf who walks the land now. Nay, this is a separate evil, one that rises from the dreams of men. Remember, this beast will know you, your name, your heart, your soul. It will await your coming. To defeat it, you must first know its true face. There lies your only hope."
Now, in the present, the warrior had found that his father's words of long ago had been true. He would meet the beast in Hydan, he would meet his destiny.
He trod the stone road, a screen of noble ferns hemming him in on either side.
And what of the trees?
There had been another time, when he had been no more than a stripling, perhaps thirteen or so, when he had come upon a forest glade where voices violated the stillness of the woodland. Hidden in a thicket just a short distance away, Dredger had watched and listened.
The boy saw four men in grey uniforms, spurs jangling on their high boots as they moved. One of them, who appeared to be in command, barked out instructions, his companions in disagreement over something. "I don't want to hear anymore about these accursed trees. They must be cut down. I have my orders."
"On whose authority?" asked one of the others.
"It is by Her word," said their captain harshly. "Will you say no to the Lady?" The other three fell silent at this, their dissension apparently quelled. "Now let’s get on with it," the man continued, taking up a long-handled axe.
Dredger watched as the four soldiers took up positions before massive trunks of trees ancient beyond reckoning.
The boy almost let out a cry, his horror at what they meant to do so great he could hardly control his rage. "They are sacred," he whispered hoarsely, knowing if he gave himself away they would surely kill him. But even as he spoke, a sound began to hum around them. At first it was low and seemingly far away, but within seconds it became loud and pulsating, like some behemoth machine working toward a frenzy. To Dredger's ears it was as if a thousand voices were singing.
The soldiers turned wildly, dropping their blades and clasping their hands over their ears, faces contorted with anguish. Their captain stumbled, moaning as he fell. "Please," he cried out. "Please! No!" The other men staggered hastily away from the glade, desperate to escape the sound.
Dredger only smiled, his mind and body instilled with a joy so overwhelming he could not refrain from laughing out loud. As he watched their flight, his head still ringing with the sound, the young warrior understood the power of these primeval titans, the trees. It was said that they could never die. And in that moment he believed it.
But now in these present dark times, Dredger knew he must focus on what lay ahead, not his memories of the past. Although not particularly weary, he decided he would rest and clear his mind. There were many mysteries and many questions to be answered and these dominated his thoughts as he leaned against a thin tree, his back heavy against its lithe trunk.
What of the boy, he wondered. Would he prove strong enough? And of course, there was the other child to be considered. The warrior prayed that Mo would watch them well. Evil worked its insidious way and the Wolf was sly. But now their fates were out of his hands. They would have to fend for themselves.
He reckoned that without any unexpected delays, he would reach the desert in little time, although he was aware that there was no accurate way to measure it, except in his own mind. The journey across the Sea of Tears itself would take far longer, but this still, with determination and strength, did not daunt him. At least the distance did not. There were other reasons why it might prove arduous.
Dredger closed his eyes and let his mind wander through the past, through old days now lost and with a clenching of his fists, he recalled his battle with the Beast. Once he had destroyed this other foe there would be another duel between man and wolf and this time his enemy would know the terminal caress of his steel.
His mind drifted outward, touching it seemed the very earth and sky. I loved you…mother…Elizabeth. What was your fate?
They were on an expedition, seeking food or any other useful supplies that would serve their family. In the night sky, a bright light flared.
It was the signal prearranged by his mother and father to warn of any danger whilst they were away. Without a word and with desperate speed the man and boy hastened back to their village, fear burrowing into their hearts. But when they reached the place all was still, an ominous silence greeting them. No children played, no animal called. Within their own small abode smoke from the cooking fire billowed gently from the chimney, drifting away on a subtle breeze.
"Where is everyone, father?" Dredger questioned, his eyes searching the darkness.
The man absently touched the boy's head, but did not speak. The young warrior went to their own doorway and stood motionless, listening intently but the only sound was the wind in the trees. Moving past him, his father went inside.
"Where is mother and Elizabeth?" Dredger persisted, glancing around nervously.
"Gone," his father said finally without any outward show of emotion, "everyone is gone." The man's feelings were bound within, held tightly in a knot of absolute loathing. Loathing for the Beast, loathing for himself for not having been there when the Wolf had came.
Dredger found himself numb, unable to fully understand the meaning of his father's words. The night crept about them, a heavy tomb that seemed to crush his soul.
Their community had simply vanished, swept away as if it were no more than dust, father and son all that remained of their clan.
Dredger, now a man, hateful time having left these memories in his mind with perfect clarity, opened his eyes and looked out toward the horizon where a sapphire sky fell like an immense curtain across the land. The Wolf had taken them all and the warrior would not rest until he had claimed retribution.
The mound rose up before them. "We've got to climb that!?" Jack spluttered, as if the idea was utterly ludicrous.
"That is the way," Mo answered. "There is no other."
"Come on, Jack," said Tom good-humouredly, "It'll be good exercise!"
Jack gave him a strained smile and his voice betrayed something of his true feelings. "Yeah, but I'm not sure I need it."
Scratching the hard earth with a paw, Mo surveyed the high grass covered hill,
its surface a broad, rutted expanse.
"It is all the same," he commented. "We must climb Gelaré Mound, for our path lies beyond it."
Tom nodded, eyeing Jack carefully. "Mo's right," he affirmed. "We can't stop now. Let's just get it over and done with. Then we can have a rest."
Hesitating, Jack thought quickly. "But what about the cold?" he moaned. "You said it was all snow and ice over there. We'll freeze!"
The badger shook his head shortly. "I will see to that."
Tom glanced quizzically at the animal but decided to trust him, although he had to admit, if only to himself, that he hadn't thought of the problem until Jack had mentioned it. They were hardly dressed for such conditions after all.
"Let’s begin,” Mo said and started forward, making his way through the tangled grass.
"Race you," challenged Tom pointing at the summit, but looking at his friend he did not see the smile and nod of acceptance he had hoped for. Jack just plodded along, his eyes
set straight ahead, a withdrawn look marring his pale features and with a weary sigh, Tom began the ascension of the mound.
Dredger sensed that the boundary between this land and the desert dunes was close now. To many, he knew, it was strange and somewhat alarming how things could change so abruptly in this world, conflicting terrain converging to form a desultory landscape, shifting in a moment from black to white.
He smiled at that thought, content that he was unmoved by all of this, gratified that his mind was too disciplined to be affected by it.
Walking on incisively, he noted that the maintenance of the roadway was gradually deteriorating and after a mile or so more it had degenerated into a muddy track. Ahead of him, the warrior could see an extensive mead of tall reeds that had been designated on the map as The Marches. He knew that this divided the green land of trees from the desert.
He found the reeds were thick and rough and it was not without a good deal of brawn and effort that he passed through them, his boots sinking into the marshy ground. As Dredger went, moving quickly even though he was hindered, he stared into the far distance and spied a shimmering, sallow light on the horizon. Yellow sand.
He wondered if the others were making such good time. They would have reached the mound by now, he felt certain, perhaps were already on the other side. And what darkness would they face beyond the ice? Rith-ran-ro-en. Perhaps fortune would favour them. Perhaps not.
The desert drew closer as he traversed the great field and at the edge of the sand, dark figures could be seen against the yellow of the dunes. A reception party? If it were so, he would be glad to meet them and hone his skill with a blade.
As he came nearer, his sharp eyes could just make out that there was in fact only one man, if it were indeed a man. The creature stood on two legs at least. With this figure, there were two animals that Dredger identified as horses. The warrior's brow furrowed. One man with two horses. Why did he wait there?
After considerable exertion, Dredger eventually emerged from the reeds and approached the perimeter of the sand, the mysterious figure standing beside one of the steeds apparently staring out across the dunes. Seeing only his back, Dredger observed that the stranger was tall, at least as tall as himself and wore an outfit of black and grey, a long cloak cast about his shoulders. Golden spurs glinted upon high black boots and the warrior saw that the man's hair was long, even more so than his own, the silver locks tied behind his neck with a length of cord.
"Hello friend," Dredger called when he came within earshot.
The figure did not turn. "Good day," came a voice, low but clearly audible, the sound of it having a curious musical quality.
For a moment, Dredger felt a little perplexed. Was this an enemy or a potential ally? "May I ask your name, friend?" he offered, his tone deliberately casual and with a flowing movement of his cloak, the stranger turned.
Dredger looked upon a man who wore a mask. It was very much like those worn by the travelling players he recalled as a young boy who had performed in his village, a plain white mask that smiled at him with unbridled amusement.
"I am Geheimnis," he said smoothly. Staring hard, the warrior tried to find the eyes beneath the mask but could see nothing but slits of apparent darkness. "And what is your name…friend?" the masked man enquired.
"Dredger," the warrior offered neutrally.
"Ah," murmured Geheimnis. "It seems you are he that I have been awaiting."
Dredger raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "And are you friend or foe?" he questioned nonchalantly.
A rasping laughter greeted his words. "That is an intriguing question."
Dredger tensed himself, his eyes fixed intently on the other man. "If we are to do battle let it begin. I grow weary of this foolish banter."
"Now, now, my dear Dredger," soothed the voice from behind the mask, "there is no need to become aggressive. I am not here to fight with you. I am here to help you."
"Help me?" repeated the warrior, unconvinced.
"Indeed," continued the masked man, "if it were otherwise, I would not wear this face." The smile on the mask seemed to widen visibly. "And then it would be a different tale to tell."
"How can you aid me?" Dredger asked sharply, unease growing within him, the stranger's scrutiny all the more disconcerting because he could not see the man's eyes.
"Why do you suppose that I have two horses when I need but one?" Geheimnis asked. "I shall accompany you across the desert dunes to Hydan, your destination. I understand that you do not trust me and that is as it should be, but perhaps as we travel you may come to value my fellowship."
At a loss, questions turning over in his mind, Dredger saw that the offer of the steed was one that he would be a fool to refuse. The very fact that this masked man knew of his goal meant that there was more here than met the eye. More beneath the mask perhaps. He resolved to play along with the man, at least for the time being. "We shall
see what we shall see," he returned with a nod.
"Indeed we shall," agreed Geheimnis.
It had been a difficult climb, but all three now stood upon the summit of Galaré Mound and looked down upon an unearthly sight.
Tom could hardly believe his eyes. Below them in a great valley there was a prodigious forest of trees, leaning away into the distance. But these were not like any other tree he had seen before. They were living ice, swaying and moving as if disturbed by a persistent wind. And yet the air was still.
"The Forest of Issylvan," Mo said with admiration.
"Are they alive?" questioned Tom, his eyes transfixed by the stunning vision of crystalline trees.
"They are an enigma," replied the badger. "Some claim it is only the ice gradually melting that gives them the appearance of movement."
"Whatever they are, they're very beautiful. What do you think, Jack?" The other boy merely gazed down at the valley of ice with an expressionless stare, his face drawn. "Are you all right?" Tom asked, stepping closer to his friend, afraid that he might be ill again.
Jack blinked slowly and glanced at Tom. "I'm fine.”
"So what do you think of it?" questioned Tom again.
"White," muttered Jack, his voice barely audible.
All through the valley deep snow like a magnificent carpet layered the ground. And beyond the forest rising in the distance, a black line marred this perfection, tall cliffs of ragged stone dominating the horizon, barring all passage.
"Be careful on the way down," advised the badger and no sooner had he spoken than Tom was climbing down the other side of the mound, a fierce longing to walk among the incredible forest of ice urging him on.
Descending at a more cautious pace, Mo sniffed the cool air and murmured words in a strange tongue. Neither of the boys heard his utterance, but both were immediately charged with a throbbing warmth that seemed to emanate from within. Tom found the sensation exhilarating. But to Jack it was as if his insides were being seared, an internal fire scorching him. Trying to conceal the agony he was exp
eriencing, he explored his mind for memories of Her face.
Please make it stop. Please!
And then, he saw her. Beneath a tree of ice, kneeling by its thick white trunk, almost invisible. She was smiling. A coldness touched his heart and the pain ceased.
Jack glanced quickly at the badger before quickening his pace to follow Tom, his friend now weaving through the trees just below.
Poor Tom, he considered with genuine regret. You'll never know what it's like to be really in love. You’ll never know.
"Shall we ride?" said Geheimnis, handling the reins of the horses and holding one
out graciously for Dredger.
The warrior took the leather roughly from the other's fingers. "I have no time to squander."
"Quite so, quite so," sang the masked man.
"But take heed," Dredger warned, "If you make any attempt to hinder me it will prove a foolish mistake for which you will pay dearly."
"Your words are hard, my dear Dredger. But they are only words."
The warrior glared at the other man. "It can be put to the test now, if you wish."
At this Geheimnis laughed, a rasping sound unpleasant to Dredger's ears. "That will not be necessary," he said and pulled himself up into his saddle.
Deftly mounting the black steed that his companion had offered him, Dredger readied himself for the journey that would take them across the Sea of Tears. They stood at the edge of a vast and barren desert and only a very few really knew what could be expected within its pale, immutable regions.
Riding his own grey mare, Geheimnis led the way out into the undulating land of sand and heat. "Are you ready to dream?" he asked ambiguously as they moved slowly across the desert plains.
"I will face what I must," was Dredger's short, impatient reply.
"Warrior brave!" called the other man. "This will indeed prove to be a fascinating journey."
They rode on, the horses' hoofs sinking methodically into the sand. The air grew warmer by degrees and soon they were enveloped in an almost unbearable heat.
"Answer me a single question," Dredger asked, mopping the sweat from his face with a sleeve. "Why should you want to help me?" He looked at Geheimnis’ face and noted with some surprise that the mask no longer displayed a smile. Now it bore no expression at all. Only the shadowy slits of eyes remained.
"Perhaps I have something to gain," came the soft reply.
"And how did you know I would come?" continued Dredger.
"You said one question and now you have asked two," admonished Geheimnis drolly, turning his frozen countenance toward the warrior.
Dredger smiled. "I would trust you more if you told me the answers to my questions."
"Very well," replied the masked man. "You yourself know that there are many forces at work in this world. It was foretold that you would come long ago. And I have awaited your coming. You have your destiny to fulfil and I have my own."
"That tells me little," persisted Dredger with an edge to his voice. "What is your purpose once we reach Hydan?" He had decided not to broach the subject of the Second Beast, preferring to wait and see just how much, in fact, the stranger knew.
"There are beasts," Geheimnis intoned, "and there are men." He paused a moment, the heavy sultriness of the desert stifling. "I travel to Hydan to find the way of men above the way of beasts."
"If you say you come for men, I too go there for that reason. But not only for men, for all creatures who oppose the Beast. The White Wolf is the enemy of all who cherish honour and justice." Dredger said this with rising emotion, his words spilling forth passionately.
"The Wolf does not concern me," Geheimnis answered flatly. "For a time we must travel the same path. It should be enough to say that I have no wish to obstruct you, quite the contrary. I trust you will show me the same courtesy."
Wiping his brow again, Dredger looked up into a bright sky. "I cannot say I trust you or even understand you, but I am willing to travel with you to the Land of Scars, beyond which lies the lost city. There we will both learn what the other has in mind."
Beneath shining trees that moved above them like a thousand swaying giants, Mo and the two boys went.
All that glisters is not gold, thought Tom, the words passing through his mind uninvited.
"Is it very far to the caves?" Jack whined.
"Not far, not far," replied the badger. "But if I were you, Jack, I would not be quite so anxious to reach that place."
"Why not?" Jack said without any real interest. "What's the big deal?"
Mo eyed him with a long, questioning gaze. "There is great danger there. They are the caves of Rith-ran-ro-en. You may have reason to remember that name and it could prove to be a very great deal for one so unwary."
"I like it here!" called Tom from a little way ahead. He was moving through the ice forest as if in a day-dream. The place was so beautiful, the trees glinting and sparkling with a magical light of many colours.
"Stay near!" Mo said with authority.
Tom decided to ignore the old badger. He wanted to run through the snow, kicking and skidding on the ice. He increased his pace and left the others behind. The trees seemed to sing to him and he wanted so much to climb to the very top of the highest of them.
Behind him, hidden within the banks of snow, Mo called out to him.
"Time to climb," said another, more persuasive voice and Tom ran on, sprinting towards one of the towering trees. For several moments, standing beneath it, he struggled with indecision. He knew that Mo was calling him back, but something deep within commanded him. The trees whispered words of longing to his heart. He stood before the sparkling ice tree and marvelled at the way its clear white trunk glistened. His fingers tingled as he took hold of an icy branch and somewhere distant he heard an urgent voice calling him back, but he didn’t want to listen. The ice held him captive now as he began to climb up into its frozen embrace.